It is still surprising to people how much money it takes to fund an outdoor community mural project. Most, who are unclear about the intricacies of planning, organizing, and implementing a communal art activity, are not aware of the minute details. Unless you went to art school, worked in or with an art organization, or like to spend your spare time hanging out with artists, you simply won’t have a clue about the in-between details that comprise a project like this.
You might not be aware of the fact that each brush used on a concrete wall should also be assigned to a caddy of water, so that paints aren’t mixed and you save as much time as possible switching in between colors. You may also not be aware that there must always be someone present to supervise the mural while others take brakes, and someone must always be ready to answer questions by passerby who want to know what exactly it is that you’re doing; or be able to calmly and repeatedly explain to someone why you believe this work of art belongs on this wall, and no, it should not be whitewashed, and no, you are not getting paid exorbitant amounts of money, and yes “anyone can paint THAT”. In other words, as an individual that has made the decision to paint outside on a public street on public concrete walls, in an effort to beautify the neighborhood for their fellow citizens in your spare time, you have to be ready to defend ART.
Thankfully, when we embarked upon this very expensive journey that was the renovation of Under City Stone, in the summer of 2015, we didn’t have to do much defending. When Caryl Yasko painted Under City Stone in 1972, she did in fact have quite an adventure in defending what she believed was the answer to community conversation, collaboration, and resilience: a community mural. At t he time, the Tribune quoted her describing passive aggressive disagreements with the police, who refused to be portrayed in the mural strapped with their glocks, and other individuals questioning whether or not Caryl had enough or not enough figurative representation of diverse individuals in the mural. But generally, Caryl enjoyed recognition and a communal sense of pride from her fellow Hyde Park neighbors, and I would strongly say that this past summer she relived that moment.
There is no argument that the renovation of the Under City Stone mural enjoyed nearly a dozen glowing articles in various publications and news outlets, and that dozens and dozens of people attended Caryl’s artist talk at the Hyde Park Art Center, consequently also showing up to help paint, and then finally to dedicate the mural in August. What should not go remiss, however, is the amount of defending that HAD to be done on the inside and behind closed doors. That experience, I will briefly mention here for one purpose, at the very least: that despite how much we, as a herd, agree that art is a ‘good thing’, and contemporary celebrated artists do ‘good things’, we still don’t truly understand the societal value of art, and when it comes to funding, we still have to defend it. In no way will I try to answer or expound upon either of these two dilemmas. I will simply relay a few moments through the lens of Under City Stone, with the hope of uncovering this reality and further continuing this conversation.
About a month before the physical restoration of Under City Stone was scheduled for painting, I learned two things: 1) there was a vast amount of people in the community who were excited about the restoration announcement and wanted to participate and 2) there was a very small number of people in the community who wanted nothing to do with it. The second group interests me more than the first. A week or so before Caryl’s artist talk, I received a phone call from an anonymous neighbor who, after the cumbersome effort of finding the project manager of the restoration (me) and actually locating my phone number on our website, wasted none of their time letting me know that this project was a waste of my time. This individual urged me, in fact, that the wall should be ‘whitewashed’ and that the content of Under City Stone is no longer relevant to the times we live in now. And, more significantly, that the larger community should be investing in more important things. The Art Historian in me cringed, the art school administrator in me frowned, but the Civic Engagement staffer in me, asked questions: why do you feel this way, can you elaborate? Your opinion is important, would you like to attend our artist talk and community meeting and express your thoughts? The conversation came to a dead end, and I never heard from this neighbor again, but the voice of contention here is actually very valuable: this person had the courage to ask very real questions about an art work that most people don’t ask because they don’t want to practice ignorance.
Most people I came across in managing this project, taking out of account those who practice within the industry, probably felt the same as my friend on the phone. Or, they simply didn’t care about those details, so they smiled, said ‘great job’, and moved on. Eventually, when I revealed the break down of costs for Under City Stone, my audience cringed. That much for a mural? That’s crazy! And so, essentially, we face the same dilemma: how do you explain to someone the value of a public art project, as far as ROIs are concerned? How do you persuade (if at all) someone to take their time understanding material, practice, collaboration, and the act of putting paint brush to wall? Hand to clay, words to crowds? How do you start speaking more clearly about art making to those that don’t understand, rather than preaching to the choir?
It seems to me that, as a group, we have an easier time celebrating something (in this case, an art work) that everyone else has already ‘approved of’ or praised, or protesting it if everyone else has as well. But to ask the real questions, and then spending the effort to learn the answer, is only a reality for a small minority. Do you care to understand the laborious nature of making? Can you see how the issues of the late 60s and early 70s are still very real in Chicago today, as portrayed through Under City Stone? Have you studied the work of the most talked-about artist today, and learned more about his practice before also ignorantly nodding your head and giving him praise? I urge you to pick up the phone, and ask the question.
By Nika Levando